LiberAmoris

Disclaimer: I’m Danish and Norwegian. Review: Vinland on my skin is part berries growing on a hillside, part sunlight flickering through trees, and part stoic Scandinavian homestead spirit. The notes, as Caitfish says above, are somewhat exotic so it’s difficult for me to discern what note is doing exactly what. But the overall effect is lovely. It's got flower notes, but it’s not floral. It's good wood notes, but it’s not woodsy. It’s just clean, like freshly washed hair in Valhalla. Absolutely one-of-a-kind.

Wow. Carmelized magnolia, so nummy. I also get a hint of coconut, as Lorencita mentions above. The mandarin and spices are more noticeable after an hour of wearing, making the magnolia sumptuous, velvety, tangy, and sexy. This reminds me of (Old) New Orleans a bit, but Helle’s Belle is much better with my chemistry. Another scent that would be perfect for going out on summer nights. Something about this blend makes me want a cocktail!

Yerevan is truly juicy, like eating an apricot so ripe that the juice runs down your wrist. Apricot was the predominant note, with a hazy (and to my nose) almost indecipherable supporting blend of lush flowers and fruits. They hover at the edges and very subtly color the apricot, tempering the sweetness slightly. This makes me think of late summer, when things are at their ripest. It’s a very cheerful blend. I like this one and will keep the imp for the instant mood boost it offers.

The olfactory equivalent of the dance of the seven veils. Salome goes on with a boozy, effervescent burst of the almond/cherry noted above, which quickly dissipates when the jasmine comes through like the sun from behind clouds, warming things up. Jasmine and I have a rocky past, and at this point I wasn’t sure this blend and I would get along. But about ten minutes later the darker notes started crowding the floral, and the gorgeous sandalwood and musk came forth. At the end I could even smell the tangy, herby oakmoss at the edges. Salome on me smells like a sexpot version of Namaste, minus the lemongrass and patchouli. The jasmine is not overpowering and although it is a sexy scent, I can also see how it would be great for days when I want to wear something mellow and warm. This isn’t the Salome from the Bible, this is Oscar Wilde's Salome.

Libertine on me is a herbaceous rose/violet with the musk and sandalwood running underneath like a warm current to balance the slightly astringent nature of the chamomile and bergamot. The overall effect is of a very lovely organic, ‘natural’ blend; rose and violet burnished and buffed until absolutely smooth. It smells like something the upper classes would have used to scent their linens right before the French Revolution, at the height of decadence. Lovely as a perfume but I also think it would be great spritzed on sheets.

Dia de los Muertos shares, to my nose, a base with Queen of Spades but has a more chocolatey and carmelly finish and seems twined with a pale green that must be the desert flowers. I love love love it. It’s like walking past an altar filled with burning candles and flowers and offerings---through the kitchen where carmelizing sweets are bubbling---and out the back door where there is an autumn sunset playing across a stark, dramatic desert landscape carrying a hint of green on the air. I think it’s one my most favorite blends ever and I am so glad that I got two bottles!

Before my Sugar Skull arrived I had three worries, based on the description: that it would be too sweet, too light, and too one-dimensional. But I am happy to say that my worries were gone within minutes of application. Sugar Skull is the kind of sweet I can handle—dark and smoky. It’s not light at all, and wafts tremendously well. And it’s as complex a scent as any other, with odoriferous layers that seem to nearly sway on my skin. Everyone’s already summed up this one pretty well: caramelized sugar + butter + molasses + a bit of maple syrup + flan + a bit of the ‘fruit dusting.’ But the best part for me is the smokiness of it all. Sugar Skull really balances the darkness with the sweet and is a true emblem for the inspiration behind the scent. Today, while wearing it, my imagination ran the gamut from a scene in Little House on the Prairie (I think) where they drizzle molasses over snow in lovely designs---to---Keats’ lines "Darkling I listen; and, for many a time / I have been half in love with easeful Death..." Now that’s a perfume.

Roadhouse is, as others have mentioned, truly something to experience. Dandelions, Budweiser, and a swirl of unknown perfume hanging in the shuttered air of a bar. Smells like the sweet smell on my skin after being out late on a summer night, with just a flicker of the tobacco ghosting by. The tobacco is definitely a 'secondhand' note, though. The star of Roadhouse is definitely the dandelions. This would be a great going-out perfume. Or for winter days when I need a shot of something yellow and uplifting. I've never had dandelion wine, but in my imagination it smells like this.

... Her scent is striking and bold with a delicate yet dark undertone: five roses with soft jasmine, warmed by vanilla, fig, tonka bean and mahogany, spiced with a drop of coffee bean. Mata Hari is a shape shifter and an oil of many disguises. Beth had warned us not to judge it until the drydown, but I was still a bit skeptical because it did not smell like anything good could come possibly out of it! All I could smell was slightly burnt coffee with an underlying muddle of flowers. But that’s the beauty of this blend. What begins as an ordinary, don’t-smell-twice oil— blossoms on the skin. The coffee odor falls away and the tonka, roses, and jasmine step forward. The only comparison I can make is to a lovely woman stepping up to a door in a brown trenchcoat. When her beloved opens the door, she opens the trenchcoat to reveal that’s she’s wearing a pink, red, and white teddy. The covert quality of Mata Hari’s beauty makes it aptly named. Three hours later, it’s sepia-tinged roses, vanilla and cream. I will love using up my imp and probably end up getting a big bottle.

Yes, Water of Notre Dame is definitely a pale green and pale blue scent. I smell the melon and violet that other reviewers have mentioned, but I didn't recognize the violet until after I read the reviews, so I guess it wasn't hit-me-over the head violet, if you know what I mean. It's very calm and placid, like the surface of water when it's at rest. I wore this all weekend as I worked overtime to finish writing something for work that was infuriatingly boring. Yet the WoND kept me serene and unruffled in spite of it all. It smells like stepping out of the freshest shower and being utterly clean, so even after 7 hours of sitting at my computer, I felt refreshed. Almost like wearing water itself. Pretty amazing stuff.

The wicked, malicious dark side of the Court of Faerie, Unseelie literally translates to ‘Unholy’. The Unseelie Court is ruled by Titania’s corrupted twin sister, the Queen of Air and Darkness. The Court rides the nighttime winds spreading chaos and miscief; woe be to any mortal that crosses its path. A misty, otherworldly scent laced with ethereal florals, crushed herbs and soft, dew-covered grasses. Unseelie is a big mystery to me. I read through all the dissonant reviews right after I'd spilled half of an imp on myself in an attempt to put on just a drop or two (talk about having enough for a test subject!). At first it smelled like a charming mix of Snake Oil and sasparilla. With a touch of maple syrup. Now it's mellowed (if that's even possible given the fact that I have half an imp on my person) to a salty, grassy floral bubbling up through a thick layer of molasses and caramel. Could this be the same oil that has been described by others above? It's definitely musky and powdery, as others have noted. But there's a salty wood note and a fae floral as well that tricks the nose. It's a stumper of an oil blend. I might have to wear this one a few more times just to see if I can make any headway with it. It's so delightfully perplexing that I'm not even sure if I *like* it or not. It seems somehow outside that kind of thinking. Unseelie seems like she doesn't give a damn whether I like her or not. It's cool.

At last! A BPAL oil that smells like my native Pacific Northwest! This one smelled like citrus in the vial, but once on the skin, the pine and juniper took possession and I smelled like a hike through the Olympic National Forest! On me, the citrus remains strong enough to take the edge of the evergreen notes so that it’s complex and fresh. I think this would be a fab winter scent. Thanks Lab, for including this as a freebie. I will use up every last drop!

Scherezade was like a BPAL Greatest Hits album for me. At first, there was a flash of cinnamon and amber that was similar to my beloved Sin. Spellbound came next, as my skin was suffused with the glow of roses. Then it morphed into O for a few delightful minutes. Finally it seemed to lean into the spicy loveliness of Old Morocco. I loved every phase of Scherezade! Clearly, like its namesake, it has many stories to tell.

One of things I love about BPAL is how different the oils can be even when they contain similar notes. Mabon and Harvest Moon share apple, sage, wine and ivy. Yet they are completely different autumnal experiences. Mabon for me is a delicious herby apple cider enjoyed by a fire built with sage and sweetwoods. To me, it's more foody than Harvest Moon, but it's such a complicated blend that it really outgrows that category as it dries and the myrrh and ivy play on the surface. This is my favorite of the two autumn limited editions so far. I'll be using this one as the temperature dips at night and I pull out my sweaters and jackets.

Harvest Moon smells to me like late summer/early autumn and again I'm reminded of the artisinal quality of BPAL's blends, as this certainly fell under the category of 'experiences in a bottle' rather than simply 'personal fragrance'. The apple, sage, and ivy were most prominent on me at first, but they mellowed into a bouquet of fall florals and what reminded me of pumpkin---not the fruit but the leaf. The image that kept coming back was a cornucopia overflowing with the season's bountiful vegetables and flowers. The wine note is lovely, like the aftertaste from a fantastic red. This is Bacchus and his wreath, an All-Hallown Summer, and the last embers of a bonfire all in one bottle. I'm reminded of these lines from one of my favorite Keats poems "Ode to Autumn": Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twinèd flowers: And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cyder-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

When I tore into my latest BPAL box, my little imp of Sudha Segara kept beckoning to me. In many ways it's the antithesis of my favorite BPAL oils which tend to be dark and incensey---and Sudha Segara is definitely light and creamy, with rays of ginger, peachflower, coconut milk, honey, and a herbal viridescence that's almost reminscent of dandelions. Like dandelion seeds, this oil drifts in the air and on my skin with an airy sweetness and serenity. It's gorgeous. This smells like peace to me. Like rest after suffering. Sudha Segara knows much and says nothing.

Calliope started off for me as a blast of mint with the astringent, herby scent of lavender. As it dried, the verbena and bergamot added a citrus note and I thought I could smell lotus (although in retrospect it was probably just the almond). I think this would make a good clarifying/morning scent because it's very fresh and invigorating due to the citrus/mint combo. Like Nine Mysteries, I would use Calliope when I needed to clear my mind in order to look at something anew. On a side note, the drydown reminded me of those special erasers I got when I was a kid---the kind that came in little shapes and colors with a print of an image on the top. They didn't erase very well, but they smelled so good!

Queen of Spades is regal, commanding, dark, and exotic. On my skin, I detect dark berries, woodsmoke and mahogany, the myrhh, and the flurry of sweet florals. I also can smell cloves, as mentioned by an earlier reviewer. This is a thick and heady scent, and a little bit goes a long way. I put on a couple of drops four hours ago and my skin is still amplifying it like incense. It’s reminiscent to me of The Red Queen in that it is also a blend of berries and woods. But whereas The Red Queen is strictly a room scent for me, Queen of Spades is very wearable, very sexy. It makes a great autumn scent and will be one of the ones I turn to now that the temperature is dropping at night and I’m starting to pull out my sweaters. This is how I want my winter jacket to smell.

Obeah was for me a lesson in waiting for the drydown. When first applied, I also got Eau de Cleaning Solution. The citrus (it does smell like verbena) and combination of cedarwood and patchouli is a bit heady. But within a few minutes it had dried down to a gorgeous citrussy-woody-green scent with a dusty edge. It reminded me a lot of Namaste, and I can see it being quite calming (voodoo properties aside) and centering. I'm really glad I waited it out and caught the mellow drydown.

Wow…Old Venice is juicy bursting florals on me. Probably the first BPAL oil I’ve tried so far that my mother and I would love equally. It’s very elegant and wearable, but it has a kick to it that makes it far superior to a more traditional composition of the same notes. The red currant, lemon, and violet plum add a fruity lusciousness to the florals in much the same way that Perspehone’s rose is augmented by the pomegranate. The result is a cascade of flowers (wisteria, rose, jasmine, and violet) drizzled with the tart and mouth-watering fruit juices. I wore it to work last week and was amazed at the power of this oil to lift my spirits. There’s something effervescent and bright about it that makes me feel like I’m applying color to myself, as well as scent. Every time I think I’m not a flowery grrrrl, I’m going to pull out my imp of Old Venice…

Queen Gertrude reminds me of the Ice Queen for some reason, although I'm not sure why. The florals should evoke summer, but there is something distant and clean about this fragrance that seems like purple flowers strewn over snow. Perhaps it is the 'regal iciness of delphinium" per the BPAL definition. Violets amplify themselves on my skin every time, and always strike me as being too dense and sweet in the air. But this is a lovely blend, and I think I might try adding it to a carrier for a diluted body oil.

Mmmmmm.....Follow Me Boy smells like lemon poundcake and jasmine! I did ask my BF for a read on the scent and he said "Nice." Not quite the reaction I was hoping for. But the night is still young. It does make me feel sexy, though!

Hollywood Babylon is what I really wanted Bon Vivant to be. I love the smell of strawberries, but BV was far too sweet for me and actually made me a little ill. With Hollywood Babylon, the sweetness is kept in check by the amber and musk, which deepen and balance the blend. It smells just like a strawberry incense I used to burn in college. True to the name, there is a streak of darkness running through this one. I was reminded of Lynch's film Mulholland Drive.

Another blend aptly named. Moon Rose is so delicate, it clearly evokes the soft grey light of the moon falling on a serene and motionless garden. As at night, when flowers close, the rose is also muted here in the most delightful way. A cool, pale white haze settles over it for me, blurring it until it’s met with an almost marine note. It’s noctural and lovely. Like radiating a dusky white light. I love BPAL’s rose blends and this is no exception. It’s so gentle and calming that I find I want to wear it to bed at night.

It's funny that you ask, because I was just wearing Jezebel the other day and thought it bore a certain resemblance to Monyette Paris. Jezebel blended with single-note Gardenia might even bring it closer. Or perhaps single-note Honey and Gardenia with a touch of Vanilla?